Obscure Reality
by LogicalmindBigheart
Summary: The BAU are called in to investigate murders in the Philadelphia area. They believe it to be the work of a serial killer. Hadrian Evans left England and everyone in it to live a new life in Philadelphia. The killings started after he arrived. It is all just one big coincidence, isn't it? Hadrian couldn't possibly know something. Or does he?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer for the whole story: I own nothing but my own plot idea.**

 **Here is a new story, let me know what you guys think :)**

Hadrian Evans pushed the door of The Big Pour Cafe open with his arm, hands resting in the pockets of his black sweatshirt. The baggy sweatshirt hid the fact he was carrying his wand in a holster on his arm. He kept his head down and walked to the back of the line. Seeing as it was 7:30AM, it was a damn long line. Sighing, he stood there with his eyes flickering about to take in everything around him.

There were the standard early birds with their coffee and a book just getting a start on their day. Then there were the procrastinators who were chugging their coffee as if it was a lifeline as they frantically typed on the laptop something that was probably due in a few hours. Oh, and who can forget the assholes who acted as if the world would end if they did not get the exact low fat-blah-blah latte they ordered. Rolling his eyes, he stepped forward as the line moved.

He did the same thing every morning, still half asleep while he waited to get his coffee. As someone who grew up in England, tea was his preference, but nothing woke him up better than a steaming cup of black coffee. The Big Pour Cafe provided him with his much needed caffeine every morning.

Hadrian remembered the first time he had American coffee. His flight had just landed in Philadelphia International Airport from London Heathrow Airport and he was half-dead on his feet from jetlag. It also did not help that he had not had a decent night's sleep in years.

He trudged forward off the plane, grabbed the little luggage he had, went to the first place he saw that sold coffee, and bought some. He almost spit it out at first, but he forced himself to finish it. The coffee gave him the boost he needed to settle down in his new home.

Now three people closer to the counter, Hadrian took his phone out of his pocket and checks it: _7 Missed Calls from Hermione Granger_ along with _12 New Messages from Hermione Granger_. Angrily, he swiped his screen to get rid of the notifications, deleted the texts without reading them, locked his screen, and stuffed it back in his pocket.

How fucking dare she try to talk to him. He left Britain for a reason. After the war he just could not seem to get all of the bodies out of his head. He kept seeing the tears and the grief with the constant ringing of cruel laughter in the background.

When he slept is when it was at its worst, which is why he got by with the least amount of sleep he could. As soon as he closed his eyes, the fire and blood along with the stench of the bodies overwhelmed him. There was always screaming and cries for help that he could do nothing about.

When he was awake he was paranoid. Loud sounds made him jump, flashing lights startled him, and sometimes he swore he saw someone from the war when they weren't even there. Even though he ultimately won when he killed Voldemort, every day still felt like he was back at that battle suffering all over again.

Everyone else started to move on. Hermione, the Weasleys, Neville, and most of the Wizarding World began rebuilding. In the beginning they were all like Hadrian, still caught up in the war. Eventually, though, they started to bounce back. The laughed, smiled, and celebrated with the rest of the country over the fact that Voldemort was finally dead. Ron and Hermione got married, Andromeda was taking Teddy on fun trips, and the country moved on. He couldn't.

Ginny expected him to propose to her, but how could he when his mind was still in the past. She deserved so much more than what he could give her. She could not truly move on if he was still holding her back. Being her stubborn self she refused to let him go, so he forced her. Hadrian pushed her away along with everyone else. They need not be bothered by his problems.

Despite how hard he tried to push them away, they all resisted. They would show up at his house, insist on taking him out, and try to make him happy.

Hadrian could not stand it. Don't get him wrong, he was grateful, but he did not deserve to be happy. For some reason, they could not understand that. His mind was still fractured and it felt like it was getting worse every day. That was why he left.

Within a few days of their last attempt to help him he had everything he needed packed, his finances converted to muggle American currency, and his flight booked. No goodbyes, no notes, no anything. A clean break.

He bought a little one bedroom, one bathroom house in Philly. It did not have the privacy he really wanted, but it would work for the moment. He could socialize if he wanted to, which he never did, or he could hole himself up in his house and rarely come out. The latter was what he did most often.

Besides getting his morning coffee, he rarely left his house unless it was necessary. Not many people talked to him, although a few tried in the beginning. When they realized he was not interested, they mostly stopped trying.

Hermione was the only one that had Hadrian's phone number in case there was a problem back in England. He regretted that now, as Hermione continued to badger him to come back. He didn't want to change his number though in case there was a real emergency since he had every magical way of communicating with him blocked. The constant phone calls and messages from Hermione were getting really old really fast.

"Excuse me, sir," said the barista startling Hadrian out of his thoughts. He reflexively reached for his wand before he realized what he was doing. Quickly he stopped and scratched his arm through his sweatshirt to cover up his mistake. Berating himself for getting caught unaware, he put his hand back in his pocket and looked up.

For a few seconds she looked exactly like Ginny. He blinked a few times until Ginny disappeared. The barista was still staring at him a little impatiently.

"Venti coffee, black, please," he told her while he smiled apologetically and paid for his drink. He moved over to the side to wait for it to be ready. The barista was making the drink and he couldn't keep his eyes off of her, wondering if he would see Ginny again.

Finally, he was handed his coffee. He did not even wait for it to cool down before he took a gulp. It was scalding, but it definitely woke him up. Nodding his head in thanks, Hadrian walked to the station to grab a lid. He snapped it on the coffee and took another very satisfying gulp.

The morning rush seemed to move on all around him, yet where he stood time seemed to halt. He thought about nothing from the war, or his life at all. He just focused on the bitter taste of the coffee and nothing else. The pain on his tongue from the heat almost felt good to him. It made him feel alive.

An elbow bumped into his side and a muttered apology followed as the person rushed for the door with a tray of coffees. Hadrian felt the scene change around him as the coffee shop faded into the Battle of Hogwarts.

He flashed back to when he bumped into a dead body slumped on the wall of the castle. He looked back at first to see who he had run into when he noticed the pale, frozen face of a girl in school robes. She had been impaled on a spike with fear still in her eyes.

Hadrian stumbled back, and the pain from spilling searing coffee on his hand brought him back to reality. He looked around, but no one had noticed that anything had happened. In fact, most of them were looking at either one of the two TVs. Curious, he stepped to the one closest to him in order to hear it better.

"In breaking news, we have just been told by the Philadelphia Police Commissioner that another murder of a young man has been committed. This is the fourth in a string of murders that has been plaguing this area for two weeks now. The most recent victim's name has not been released until the family can be notified. There is speculation that this is the work of a serial killer, although nothing has yet been confirmed. Let's go to our reporter at the scene," said the anchor as the words popped up on the screen below her.

"I am at the scene of the most recent crime and the investigators are still going through everything. We can say that it was a 20 year old male that was pronounced dead on the scene. The man that noticed the body was just taking out the trash when he saw it and called police. Now, we can't help but think that this is connected to the three other murders of young men in the Philadelphia area," the reporter said.

She brought her hand to her ear as she listened to her headphone before it cut back to the anchor at the desk.

"We've just heard that the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI have just arrived at the Philadelphia police headquarters. The FBI is now helping with the case. The cause of death of the most recent male victim has not been released, but it has been for the three previous victims of the supposed serial killer. The cause of death for those three victims is undetermined and the detectives are unwilling to say anymore than that. Will it be the same for the possible fourth victim? We will have updates for you as more information is released. Stay tuned," informed the anchor as the program cut to a commercial.

Whispers started around the cafe as people began talking about what they had just heard. Ideas were being thrown every which way about the murders and if it might happen again. Everyone was speculating about who could have done it.

Everyone but Hadrian, that is.

 _Shit_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own plot.**

 **A reviewer asked for a timeframe, and I apologize for not mentioning it before. This is about 2 years after the war for Harry Potter, and for Criminal Minds it is the current season but the team is Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, Reid, JJ, Garcia, and Prentiss (instead of Kate). I am normally not this fast with updating so don't get used to it :) Thanks for all of the follows, favorites, and reviews. Love you all!**

 **xoxo, LogicalmindBigheart**

"Grab your go bags and wheels up in thirty! We are heading to Philadelphia. We'll brief on the jet on the way," yelled Hotch to the rest of the BAU team in the bullpen. They all stopped what they were doing, looked up, and nodded at him to show they heard him and understood.

Everyone began moving around, gathering their belongings and informing their families that they would be gone. It was a fast but efficient pace as the entire team had done this many time before. Reid placed his bookmark and closed his book he was reading.

"What is that, like your fifth time reading that book? Don't you have it completely memorized by now?" joked Morgan while he stood up from leaning on the edge of his desk and grabbed his own bag.

"Well, actually I..." started Reid.

"Pretty boy, it was just a rhetorical question. I don't need some intellectual response and a Star Trek reference. Come on, we got to get moving. See you on the jet in a few," interrupted Morgan. He grabbed his jacket and jogged out the glass doors with his bag in hand.

Reid pushed his hair out of his eyes, picked up his bag and his sweater, and walked out after Morgan. JJ, Rossi, Hotch, and Prentiss followed soon after with their already packed bags. Everyone was finally on the jet with a few minutes to spare. The plane lifted off and they were on their way.

The team grabbed their seats, put their bags in the overhead or beside them, and everyone pulled out their tablets.

"Hello my lovelies," said Garcia cheerily as she popped up on the computer screen. Her hair was in purple pigtails today and she was wearing bunny rabbit earrings. Her favorite fuzzy pen was in her hand. "I've sent the file to all of your tablets so everyone should have it ready and waiting."

"Oh baby girl, you are always taking care of my needs," sweet talked Morgan to Garcia. He winked at her saucily and she smiled back cheekily.

"Alright guys, let's get started," said Hotch loudly to get the team back on track. He gave Derek a look to tell him to cool if off. Derek put his hands up as a sign of apology but his smirk showed he was not truly sorry.

"We received a call from the Philly PD and they are asking for our help. They have had four murders in the past two weeks. The crime scene photos are on your tablets. There is no known cause of death for any of the murders. It just seems like they died for no reason," started Hotch as he scrolled through.

"No known cause of death? That is definitely odd. How do we even know that the victims are linked then?" commented Rossi.

"The victims all look the same. They are all white males in their late teens or early twenties with black hair, pale skin, and very similar features. And the fact that they all died the same unknown way means they are connected," chimed in Prentiss. The team were all nodding their heads as they thought more about the case.

"The way they were laid out suggests remorse. After they were killed the unsub felt bad about what he had done, however he did it. If it was just one victim, I would have said it was an accidental death by someone the victim knew. But with there being four victims the unsub means to kill them, but something changes after it happens. It is almost like he sees something else," said Reid as he mulled the case over in his mind. He was just thinking out loud most of the time.

Reid tapped his pen against the table as everyone thought over what he said.

"Is there anything suspicious in their financial records? Any red flags?" asked Hotch. Garcia knew he was asking her and she was ready for it.

"Nothing at all, sir. All four victims are clean as a whistle. They were all students at either Drexel or Temple University with above average grades. They were involved socially in clubs and sports teams. David Finch and Michael Hunt, the first two victims, had girlfriends when they died. Paul Thomas and Nathan Ledge, the most recent victims, were both single. Nothing unusual in their internet searches. The only connection I see is their appearances," Garcia finished as the sound of typing keys could be heard through the screen even after she finished talking.

"Okay, well I want Morgan and Reid to go to the medical examiner's office to look at the body. Rossi and Prentiss, go to the latest crime scene and look it over. JJ and I will go straight to the precinct and talk to the officers. I want to get as much information as we can as soon as we land," said Hotch as the plane began its approach to the tarmac.

Everyone got off of the plane and went their separate ways. The medical examiner told Morgan and Reid the same thing that they had already heard. No drugs were found in any of their systems, no needle marks, and no wounds anywhere. The cause of death completely stumped them. Morgan and Reid then left to meet up with the team at the precinct.

Rossi and Prentiss were not having any more luck than the rest of them. The scene was completely clean. Well, it was an alley with a dumpster so it was dirty that way, but there was not much at the scene that told them anything. Rossi saw a few drag marks that showed that the body was posed, but that was it. They finally gave up, got in the SUV, and drove back to the precinct.

At the precinct, Hotch and JJ were also stumped. The local cops did not know much at all. For some reason any of the security cameras in the area were either down or scrambled so no image was there. They did not have even one image of the killer.

No evidence was left behind, and the lack of knowledge has the cops a bit spooked. There was no pattern to the killings, and they had no idea when the next one would be. From the rapid pace the killer was going at, he had to be spiraling and the next victim would come any day now.

The team went at it for hours, discussing the possible profile. They mapped all of the locations where the bodies were found in an effort to find the comfort zone. They were able to eliminate some parts of Philadelphia, but a lot of it was still open for where the unsub might live.

"The unsub is probably a man about the same age as his victims. That puts him at about twenty or twenty-one years old," said Rossi to his team. They were all sitting at the conference table eating a late dinner.

"I'd also say he would have to be pretty athletic and in relatively good shape. He would also not have any physical deformities that would make him stand out in any way. The unsub doesn't want people to remember him and they obviously don't. If they did, we would already know who this bastard was," added Morgan as he reached for a carton of Chinese food.

"He obviously has a preference in victims so it is unlikely that he would go for anyone that doesn't fit his preference. There could even be hallucinations. Whoever the unsub sees when he looks at his victims must have hurt him in the past. Once he realizes that he killed a person that wasn't the person that hurt him, he feels guilty about it" piped in JJ. The team talked more about the unsub's profile and then they turned in for the night. They all hoped to find more answers before another victim turned up.

One day passed with no more progress in tracking down the unsub. That is when they got the call.

Another body had been found. There was a fifth victim.

"God damn it!" yelled Morgan as he slammed his fist into the wall. They were getting nowhere in this case. They had no idea how to stop the unsub.

People were going to keep dying, and they could do nothing about it.

The best they could do was get lucky.

They needed a miracle.

 _~OBSCUREREALITYOBSCUREREALITYOBSCUREREALITYOBSCUREREALITY~_

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Hadrian Evans quickly left the coffee shop after seeing the news. Everything looked all too familiar. He knew it was the killing curse. He knew that is how they died.

He knew it was magic that killed them. That was the mysterious cause of death that the muggles could not make any sense out of. There is no way they could figure out what killed them. They just do not have the capability.

Unless other wizards get involved. But that just would not happen since there is no way they could know about the murders. Without other magical help, these murders should go unsolved.

There is no way they could figure out who killed them.

He knew who killed them. He knew who was responsible for the deaths of those four men.

Hadrian was forced to face the truth. He knew those faces. He knew each and every one of them.

He did not realize until too late that they were not who he thought they were. When he looked at them, all he saw was Tom Marvolo Riddle, the man that Voldemort used to be.

Tom Marvolo Riddle. The man who broke him, who caused the deaths of so many. Who tortured ruthlessly, who made him the paranoid war veteran he was. It was Voldemort's fault that he never had a childhood, never knew true happiness. He was the reason that Hadrian could not be normal like his friends or the Weasleys. The reason for everything bad in his life.

Hadrian knew those faces of those men.

He killed them after all.

He knew he wouldn't be able to stop if it happened again.

Reality seemed to constantly be slipping away from him. One minute he was walking down the street, the next he was walking amongst the bodies in Hogwarts with their blood seeping into his shoes.

Soon after, it did happen. He saw Tom Riddle again when he was walking back from the grocery store. He lost control.

A fifth victim had been killed.

Hadrian murdered him.

Now he just had to hope that the BAU would never find out he was who they were looking for.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi everyone! Thank you all so much for your responses to this story. I apologize that it took this long for an update, but I was on vacation for a week. I wrote this on less than 5 hours of sleep since I've been up since 4:30am and in a car for 6 hours. I wrote this as soon as I got home, so be kind :) I'm flying by the seat of my pants here. I love hearing from you guys though! Anyway, here is the next chapter. It is extra long just for you!**

 **xoxo, LogicalmindBigheart**

A woman, who was also a witch, sat at her desk that was piled with papers and folders. Her third cup of coffee balanced on the edge but it could be knocked over very easily by any sudden movement. A small spill from her first cup already stained her handwritten notes. In her haste to get her work done on time, her hip jarred the desk and down it went. With only a wave of her wand she could have cleaned it up, but she pushed it off for later. She frowned at the memory as she went about her work.

The light from her magic-compatible computer screen lit up her face, creating an almost eerie glow.

Brown hair sat atop her head in a messy bun from when she quickly threw it up earlier that morning. She had given herself barely enough time to shower, so it would have to do.

Everything seemed to go wrong this morning that possibly could have. Her alarm did not go off, and it was just one more thing her husband can hold against her for using a muggle alarm clock. He thought it was ridiculous, but she could not get herself to give up her "muggle toys" as he called them. Then of course her shower only had cold water, and she had run out of conditioner. She ran around for three minutes searching for the floo powder because for some unknown reason it was not right next to the fireplace like it was supposed to be. After she arrived at her office, she realized she forgot papers she needed for her meeting at her house, so she had to quickly apparate back and find them. The coffee machine even required an extra two slams to get it to even start running. To put it simply, today was turning out to be the day from hell for her.

Her fingers drummed against the desk as she debated on grabbing another cup of coffee. It was much needed, but she knew that much caffeine so frequently was not good for her health. She was not even sure if it was worth another fight with the stubborn coffee maker.

She groaned, though, thinking about the mounds of paperwork she still had to fill out and file.

She scoffed as she thought about how some people thought her job would be a waste of time. They thought she was wasting all of her potential working with the muggle and the magical governments. Surely she could be doing something more important.

Little did they know that her section of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, or the DMLE, required more work and skill than they ever dreamed of.

Her section was very independent from the rest of the department. Because of her skill and capability, she was pretty much in charge of it all. Of course, she still had to answer to the Minister and give frequent reports, but she was the one in charge. They trusted her to get the job done.

She tapped her pen against her lip again and again as she read through the latest file. She reviewed them all before she signed them and officially closed the investigation.

That was just one part of her job, though. As a liaison to muggle government agencies, she helped them when they had something unexplainable and most likely magical. There were some death eaters that escaped after the war and fled to different countries. They would then kill some muggles and the muggle authorities just do not have the capabilities to handle it.

There are people in almost every country's government law enforcement agencies that look out for suspicious cases, and they provide the higher ups with my information if it is looking like the case is magical. Not many questions are asked. They just know that she and her team are very good at their jobs.

The agents actually working the case are not told much information before she arrives. It is actually entertaining to watch their first reactions when they realize she is the agent in charge to help them. Not much is expected from a woman her age, so she loves to surprise and impress.

There are some cases where the agents need to be told about the wizarding world, but they are made fully aware of the secrecy and there has not been a problem yet. None of them needed to be obliviated, and that is one of the worst case options. It is preferred not to mess with the minds of innocent muggles. It would definitely raise red flags if they started acting a lot different after her team arrived than before.

The policy is to make it seem as if the DMLE were never there.

The shrill ring of the woman's cell phone bursts the silence the of the room. She jumps out of her chair a little, startled by the suddenness of the noise. As her arm flinches, it pushes her notebook back and the coffee cup falls off the edge.

Damn it! The liquid spread quickly on the carpet and the stain kept growing. She reaches for her wand as she jumps around any of the spilled coffee. With a quick swish, the coffee is completely gone from the carpet and the cup. The phone rings again and she freezes her body with her arms out, frantically looking for the phone. She can hear it but she cannot see it.

The woman hurriedly picks up folders, pushing papers around searching for her phone.

Aha! Somehow it made its way under a book I had used for reference a week ago. It rang again as she wrapped her hand around it. She slid across the touch screen to answer the call without even looking at who was calling.

It seemed like she had a new case. The rest of her team was busy, so she was going to handle this one on her own.

She grabbed her work bag and walked to the nearest floo network. She said her home and went to her bedroom. She threw some of her clothes in a bag while she talked with her husband over the phone. She told him she would be gone for a bit, and he was fine with it. He said be safe, told me he loved me, and wished me luck. With everything packed, she called the DMLE to get an international portkey. One would be ready for her in half an hour, and then she would be at her destination.

The FBI asked for her help with a case that their Behavioral Analysis Unit was working on. They think it might be magical.

It is time to go to America.

 _~OBSCUREREALITYOBSCUREREALITYOBSCUREREALITYOBSCUREREALITY~_

The BAU team was spread out all over the conference room. Names, faces, maps, and background checks covered every available surface. Every member of the team that was there was flipping through files, searching for anything that could help them. They were at a complete standstill.

With the new victim, they had hopes that maybe the killer slipped up. Maybe they would finally catch a break. Unfortunately, the newest body was exactly like the other ones. Same mysterious cause of death with no evidence left behind.

The victim did fit with the rest of them. He had the same age, build, hair color, and age as the other bodies. It only confirmed that they had the right victim pool, but they had nothing on the unsub.

Everyone sat quietly while they all read through their materials when Hotch's phone rang. The team looked up at him and then looked back to their files.

Hotch stood up from his chair and walked out of the room as he brought the phone to his ear.

"SSA Aaron Hotchner," Hotch said as he answered the phone. He continued to walk to a more secluded area when he noticed some of the local officers looking up at him from their desks.

"Hello Agent Hotchner. This is John Freeds, the assistant to the director of the FBI. I am calling to inform you that we have asked an agent from Britain to assist you with the case. They are to have full access to everything and should be arriving today or tomorrow. I have given them most of what you already have so they should be up to date when they land. Questions?" informed the assistant in a very factual and direct tone.

"No questions, sir," Hotch said very emotionless.

"Good. The director wants this case solved, so work together and get this done. Goodbye," Freeds said forcefully before he abruptly hung up the phone.

"Goodbye sir..." was all Hotch got in before the call was disconnected. He sighed and then put his phone back in his pocket.

He walked back into the room and the agents all looked up at him questioningly. As he stood there, the team realized he actually had something to say to them and he was not just going to brush them off. They all sat up in their chairs, put their files down, and looked at him.

"I just got a call from the assistant director. He asked for help and Britain is sending over an agent. They are to be given everything. I assume since they are coming that they are good at what they do, so maybe this is what we need to crack this case," Hotch told them in a matter of fact tone.

They were surprised that an agent would be coming from overseas to help them. Shrugging, they figured that they could use the help.

"Do we know anything about who is coming?" asked Morgan as he put his feet back on the table while reclining in his seat.

"No, we do not know much. All I know is that they are coming today or tomorrow. We will just have to see when they get here," said Hotch, slightly apologizing for not having any information for them. "Let's just get back to the case and we will worry about it when they come."

A few hours later, they heard a commotion coming from the front of the police headquarters. Quickly rising from their seats, the team went to see what was going on. What they saw was quite an odd scene.

A young woman in her early twenties stood there arguing with an officer. She had one hand on her hip while the other flew around the room as she gestured angrily. They were not close enough to hear anything that was said. She was showing him something, but the agents could not see what it was from the distance they were at. The officer must have denied her again because she threw her hands up in the air and got visibly more angry.

Realizing this should not go on any further, Hotch stepped in.

"What is going on?" he asked, aiming the question at both the woman and the officer. Before the officer could even open his mouth, the woman piped up.

"I am trying to gain access to this precinct, but this imbecile here will not let me in. I am here about the serial killer case," she huffed in a very distinct British accent as she turned towards Hotch to explain.

Finally hearing the accent is what clued the rest of the team in on who this woman most likely was.

"And you would be...?" questioned Hotch as he nodded for the officer to leave it to him.

"I am Agent Hermione Granger. I was asked to come here and assist on the case by your superiors," she explained as she showed them the badge she had been waving at the officer earlier.

The rest of the team was surprised that this was the agent that was supposed to help them. She was incredibly young, even younger than Reid when he first joined the BAU. They all had varying questions in their heads, wondering how she could be qualified and what experience she would have.

Hermione pretty much knew what was running through their heads. She usually enjoyed the surprise, but the lack of sleep and annoyances of the day had taken their toll. She just wanted to begin and finish the case.

She held out her hand for each agent to shake, and they did.

"I already stopped by the most recent crime scene just to take a look around. Are you guys working in a more private area or...?" Hermione said as she just started walking further into the precinct.

She did not tell them that she looked for a magical signature left behind but could not find one. She was really hoping she would have, because that would have made this case a lot easier. The killer has to have masked it or gotten rid of it in some way. That is, if it definitely is a magical case.

She also failed to mention that she never got a chance to look at all the files that she was given. Normally she would be more prepared, but the day just got away from her. She figured that the team could just fill her in.

The team all looked to one another, and then nodded. Hermione followed them as they weaved around the desks and into the conference room. She could tell that they had been here awhile by how everything was set up.

"Special Agents Spencer Reid, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jureau, Emily Prentiss, and I am SSA Aaron Hotchner. Our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, is on the tablet and she is back in Quantico," introduced Hotch and he nodded to each member of the team in turn. Garcia returned the introduction with an exuberant greeting about how she loved her accent. Hermione smiled back in response as her quirkiness reminded her of Luna.

"Nice to meet everyone. As you heard I am Agent Hermione Granger from Britain. Could you tell me what you know so far about the case?" said Hermione as she got straight to the point. She put her bag down on the floor next to a chair and sat down in it.

Hotch looked at Garcia to tell her to pull up the photos of the case. The BAU team talked about everything they knew including the victims' histories and the limited profile they came up with. It was not until halfway through that all of the agents noticed the same thing.

It looked like Agent Granger was not listening to them at all. All she could do was stare at the photos of the victims with a puzzled yet shocked look on her face. The team looked at each other, not sure if they should ask her what was wrong. When she brought a pen up to her mouth and started chewing on it as the other hand drummed anxiously on the table, they knew they needed to intervene.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Rossi as he took the lead in the questioning. Agent Granger did not even look over at him as he asked the question. He repeated the query again, and they finally saw that she heard them when her eyes darted to him and she put the pen down.

The team waited anxiously, curious as to what could be running through her head. They had no idea what could make her react like that.

"These victims, they...I...They look an awful lot like someone I am familiar with. The resemblance is almost uncanny," she responded in a voice barely louder than a whisper. The team all just stared at her. "It was someone that was very well-known."

The team leaned forward in their seats, eager to learn more information about why these victims might have been picked.

"Who do they look like?" Prentiss asked finally.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," sighed Hermione as she sat back in her seat and ran her hand over her face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello Everyone :) School is starting soon so this story will probably be updated very randomly (more than it is now). *ducks away from thrown objects*. The ages will probably be off but just go with it. I'm sorry, but with it being the beginning of college I will be very busy trying to get the hang of things. I wanted to get an update out before the craziness begins. Thanks for the favorites, follows, and reviews! Enjoy and let me know what you think! If you could let me know if you want Harry as the killer or not, that would be great. I'm torn as to where to take the story which is making me not want to write it :/**

 **xoxo, LogicalmindBigheart**

Hermione's heart was racing as she placed her hands on the arms of the chair. Her hands clenched the plastic so tight that her knuckles were visibly white. The pounding of her heart drowned out any other sound as her body remained stiff and taught. The pictures were the only things she could really focus on.

Memories from the war crawled unbidden from the deepest crevices of her mind. She had hidden everything so deeply within herself so that she could get passed it all, and it had been working. Hermione had moved on with her life. Seeing those photos, though, forced everything to come rushing back.

During the war she had done so much research into the man that had become Lord Voldemort. As soon as she had his name, she scoured every document she could get her hands on in both the Muggle and the Wizarding world. Hermione dug through every inch of Tom Riddle's life that she could find.

Old newspapers featured small articles about Tom Riddle, Sr. and his family with pictures to go along with them. The Ministry contained standard documents about jobs, accidental magic, and any legal work. The Unspeakables even let her look at the files they gathered on him, and those were incredibly detailed. She even spoke to people that would have known him when he was younger.

To Hermione, knowledge was the key; it held the power. She took to heart the phrase 'know thy enemy'. She made it her mission to know as much about Tom Marvolo Riddle as she could.

Photos from every article she had read started flashing in front of her eyes. They started off slow with the youngest photo she could find of him, and they sped up through every photo she had seen of him.

Riddle looked so much like these young men.

The BAU team watched Hermione as she sat completely still with her eyes glued to the screen. They could tell though that her mind was completely elsewhere as her eyes had sort of a glazed look to them.

Tom Marvolo Riddle. Each team member thought about the man's name. The way that Agent Granger said it implied that he was a well-known figure. They repeated the name over and over again in their heads as they searched for any memory of the name.

Morgan looked to Hotch. Hotch shook his head and he looked to Rossi. Rossi could not come up with anything either.

"Reid," Hotch called and the entire team looked towards their youngest member. If anyone would recognize the name, it would be him.

Reid glanced up at his team as he heard his boss call his name. He had been lost in his thoughts, wracking his brain for any information.

"I..." Reid started as he tried looking for the name again. He finally came up completely blank. "I do not recognize it. I have not come across it anywhere."

The team released the breath they had been holding as their hopes were dashed. They had been relying on Reid, but he had not known it either.

"Morgan, call Garcia and have her run the name. I want everything she has on him," ordered Hotch. Morgan pulled his cell phone from his back pocket, dialed Garcia, and put it on speakerphone.

"Baby girl, I need you to find everything on a Tom Marvolo Riddle," Morgan said as soon as Garcia answered the phone. He glanced up at Agent Granger to see if she had come out of her own head, but she still looked out of focus.

"I can satisfy your every need my chocolate thunder," Garcia flirted as her typing could be heard through the phone.

"Garcia," Hotch said in a stern tone, reminding her that she was on speakerphone.

"Sorry Boss," apologized Garcia respectfully.

"Do you have anything?" interrupted Rossi.

"Of course I'll have something I just need one...more...second. Ha! I have found one Tom Marvolo Riddle," she said triumphantly. The team looked at one another.

"What else, Garcia?" Prentiss asked. They were all eager to figure out who this man that supposedly looked like all their victims was. More clicking could be heard over the speaker.

"His mother was Merope Gaunt. There is very little background on her before she died in childbirth. Her son was Tom Marvolo Riddle and he grew up in the orphanage his mother left him at. He was never adopted, and the reports from the orphanage said that he was odd and bullied because of it. There were a few incidents he was involved in where other kids were hurt. A woman named Mrs. Cole who worked at the orphanage wrote in her report that she suspected he was at fault somehow, but there was no way to prove it. This continues until he is eleven years old, and then he drops off of the face of the earth. I'm talking no school records, financial records, hospital records... absolutely nothing that I can find. There were some reports from the orphanage that showed that he stayed there some summers, but after he turned seventeen he vanished. Wish I could give you more my sweetums," Garcia finished.

Halfway through Garcia's report, Hermione forced the images to the back of her head. Everything felt slow, like she was just waking up after a long nap. Her eyelids blinked slowly as it registered where she was. She was not in Britain, but in the United States. Reality hit her, and she made her body relax again.

Sound filtered to her brain, and she began listening to what Garcia was saying. None of the information was new to her, and she knew that the BAU would have questions.

Garcia told them everything she could find, and Hermione saw them physically thinking over the news that they were given.

JJ felt sorry for how the man grew up. Tom Riddle was never really given a shot and it seemed like the orphanage just made everything worse for him. He lost his mother at such a young age so he never really had a family.

Morgan recognized how the neglect and lack of love and support could have lead to psychological problems. These problems are what lead him to lash out with violence, but he was creative enough to get away with it.

Prentiss was stuck on the fact that he completely disappeared for months on end and then he entirely disappeared when he was seventeen. What could cause someone to disappear like that? He could be a runaway who just lived on the streets, but he would not have been able to do that forever.

Hotch saw that Tom Riddle would be pretty old right now, and since the victims are younger, the killer must be someone who was familiar with Riddle as a young man. It was unlikely, though, that the serial killer would be someone in their 60s or 70s. He knew the profile was right, but he could not figure out how Tom Riddle fit into it all.

The entire team looked to Agent Granger for answers. She sighed and then stood up from her seat. She walked to the head of the table near the large screen while motioning for the rest of the team to sit down. Morgan opened his mouth to begin the questioning, but Hermione held her hand up to stop him.

"I know you all have a lot of questions, and I'll try to answer as many as I can. Some of them I just can't answer though. Not won't but can't." Hermione began wondering how she could satisfy them without mentioning magic at all. She had to uphold the Secrecy Act, but that would be really hard to do. She had to choose her words very carefully.

"Let me start by confirming the information that Ms. Garcia relayed over the phone. That is all correct. Tom Marvolo Riddle grew up in an orphanage because he had no family. His father did not want him or his mother after he found out she tricked him, so he left them to fend for themselves. Merope died in childbirth but right before she told the staff what her son's name was to be." Hermione briefly continued on with the information they were already told while she added in a few more details.

"But what happened when he was eleven?" questioned Reid. He could not wait any longer for the mystery to be solved.

Hermione knew she could not give them the actual answer, so she watered down the story a bit.

"He was invited to go to a boarding school. His mother's family had gone there for generations, so his name was on their list of students. That is where he was during the school year, and then he went back to the orphanage in during the summer months." Hermione pulled up the picture of Tom Riddle on her phone that reminder her the most of the victims. She put it on the screen and the entire team gasped. He looked so similar to the victims and they could see why Agent Granger made the connection. Rossi still had questions, though.

"The way you first said his name made it seem like he was famous or something. What did he do to get that way?" Rossi asked as the room became utterly silent. Everyone was waiting for the answer.

Hermione paused, unsure how to answer. She bit her lip as she thought over her response. Nothing can imply magic.

"He was one of the worst terrorists Great Britain has ever seen," she finally said. "Many people were killed by him and his group called the Death Eaters. They believed a certain type of being was superior to the rest, so they tried to eliminate the rest. Tom Riddle started when he was young under the name Lord Voldemort, and then he was stopped for awhile. No one could find him until he reappeared years later and started everything up again. Barely anyway knew who he really was so not many were aware that Lord Voldemort and Tom Riddle were the same. He was known for torturing and killing whomever he wanted whether they be babies, adults, or entire families, and he was considered incredibly dangerous. About two years ago he was killed himself and most of his followers were captured and they are now in prison." Hermione tried to be as vague as possible and hoped that they would not ask about the obvious holes in the story.

"Why did we never hear of him if he was such a terrible figure in Britain?" asked JJ. The rest of the team was in shock by how horrendous of a man Tom Riddle had become. Hermione had to think up an answer quickly.

"We kept it very contained because the government saw it as their own problem, and they did not want any aid. They also did not want to worry those that were not directly affected by him." Hermione knew this was a bullshit response, but it was the best she could do on short notice. Talking about Riddle's crimes brought back memories she would rather forget. She wanted to move on from the conversation as soon as possible.

"Do you guys have an idea to apply this new information to the profile?" Hermione asked as a way to change the subject.

Hotch gave her a look that told her he knew exactly what she was doing, but he let her.

"The unsub is killing people that looked like this Tom Riddle guy, so it must be connected to the terrorist acts he committed. Most likely, it's someone who is out for revenge, or even someone who is scared of this man," said Morgan.

"Maybe the unsub saw Tom Riddle when he looked at these victims, and he killed them out of fear of what he saw." JJ chimed into the conversation.

"So the unsub is a man in his early twenties who does not stand out in a crowd, and he is most likely from Great Britain. He probably was affected in some way by the acts of terror so he is killing people that resemble Tom Riddle. He then realizes that the victim is not Tom Riddle and he feels remorse, so the unsub is not in a constant hallucination." Hotch updated their old profile and everyone sat quietly as they searched for something else to add.

"How does the unsub know who Tom Riddle is though if everyone knew him by his alias?" Reid asked rhetorically, just throwing the question out there for everyone to mull over. No one could have guessed what was going on inside of Hermione's head.

She knew that very few people knew the truth. Riddle's own followers only knew him as Voldemort. It was incredibly unlikely that he would tell any of his Death Eaters how he was not a pureblood, so the killer could not be one of them.

That leaves the unsub to be a fighter for the Light that knew who Voldemort really was.

It had to be someone from the Order.

Hermione kept all of this to herself, though. There is no way she could explain how the unsub was a wizard that she most likely knew. He was someone she once trusted her own life to.

Now she had to catch this man. Hermione tapped her thigh with her index finger in thought when she was suddenly interrupted by the ring of the telephone in the room.

Morgan jumped and scrambled for his phone in his back pocket. Everyone looked at him as they were each started out of their own thoughts. He answered his phone and put it to his ear.

"Agent Derek Morgan," answered Morgan as he walked to the window in the room for a bit more privacy.

"Chocolate Thunder, have I got something for you!" Garcia yelled excitedly.

"Hold on a second baby girl, I'm going to put you on speakerphone so everyone can hear," Morgan said louder so that the rest of the room would know what he was doing. He walked to the table and put his phone down after his thumb pressed the button. "Alright Garcia, you're on."

"So I was just going through any possible surveillance video around the crime scenes and I got lucky. And I mean incredibly lucky. I went out on a limb and I found a shot from an ATM camera that might be our guy. I think we finally have a suspect." Garcia was breathless with excitement. The rest of the team was just as thrilled at the news.

They might finally know who the unsub was.

"Garcia, send us his photo. Do you have an id yet?" Hotch stood closer to the phone as his hands clenched with adrenaline.

The bing of her computer could be heard through the phone.

"I got it."


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N. *hides from thrown projectiles* I am so terribly sorry for this two month gap. I forgot that I left you guys with a bit of a cliffhanger too and I truly apologize. Life has been crazy and I'm just starting to settle into college life. Exams have been a bitch and it's hard to get used to not being home. I did say my updating would be sporadic. At least you are finally getting an update! Always celebrate the little things! I really appreciate all the follows, favorites, and reviews :) It's those notifications I got that encouraged me to keep writing and not leave you hanging. (It is even extra long as an apology).**

 **Much love and I hope everyone is happy and in good health!**

 **xoxo, LogicalmindBigheart**

The silence was deafening as the team waited for the identity of their possible unsub. No one dared to breathe, afraid that it could ruin this one chance of finally getting a lead.

"Well who is it?" asked Rossi when he decided Garcia was taking way too long to tell them.

"Hold your horses, I just have to check one thing first." Garcia's typing continued to echo through the room. The rest of the team was starting to get antsy. Reid shifted from one foot to another, and Prentiss starting tapping her nail against the wooden table.

"Okay my crime fighting heroes, this man comes from the land of tea and James Bond. You know, Daniel Craig in all his spy glory. Oh, and don't get me started on Pierce Brosnan..." Garcia continued to babble.

"Garcia!" Hotch reprimanded sharply. Morgan gave him a concerned look. Hotch was normally not that harsh with her.

"Sorry," she said and everyone could hear a little bit of hurt in her voice. Hotch looked regretful, but did not apologize. They needed answers.

"I think this man is Neville Longbottom. Quite the name, isn't it. There is not much on file about him. I found his birth certificate which lists Frank and Alice Longbottom as his parents. After that there is almost nothing on record. It is like he did not even exist. I looked into his parents and the same goes for them. No immunization or school records at all," Garcia finally revealed. The team was all thinking the same thing. It was just too similar to Tom Marvolo Riddle's records, or lack thereof.

"He only recently started leaving a record trail. He bought a plane ticket 3 weeks ago to Philadelphia International Airport."

"That's only a week before the killings started," cut in Reid as this Neville seemed more and more likely to be the unsub, or at least connected in some way.

"Right you are, Reid. He rented an apartment on a 3 month lease, so it seems he was not planning on staying long. I called the superintendent and he says that Neville hasn't shown up the past two weeks so that is a bust. He must pay for things in cash because there is no money trail," Garcia finished. The air seemed to buzz as each profiler was thinking over all of this new information.

They were all so caught up in the moment that they forgot that Agent Granger was even still in the room.

She was completely frozen in shock for the second time that day. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes contained this look of disbelief. Her hand froze in its movement of tapping a pen on the table.

She could not believe it. Neville was who they were looking for. What was he even doing in America anyway? He never said anything about leaving.

It could not be him. Her sweet Neville that needed help finding his toad on the train. The same Neville who loved herbology and went out of his way to help the younger years. He stood up to Voldemort alone, and was willing to do anything for his friends. This, this couldn't be him. It doesn't make sense.

Back in the conference room, the profilers began tossing around ideas to each other.

"He is the right age and build. And a camera caught him near the crime scene," said JJ as she sat back in her chair and ruminated over the new information.

"Let's not forget the similarity in the lack of records. That could mean that Tom Riddle and Neville Longbottom were a part of the same circle. He could have been fighting against this Riddle guy," added Morgan.

"But what is with the missing records? One person goes off the grid, okay. But two people completely unrelated? In this day and age it is next to impossible," questioned Reid. He could not get past the fact that these two men practically did not exist. He was going to go on but he noticed his team was not listening to him. He looked to where they were focused on.

It was Agent Granger.

She looked shocked. Reid could honestly say he had never seen someone look that stunned before. Her lips were barely moving, but it seemed as if she was saying something. Prentiss slowly got closer to her so as not to scare her.

"Agent Granger?" she asked softly. There was no response.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" Prentiss continued while gently extending a hand towards her. She had finally gotten close enough that she could hear what Agent Granger was muttering.

"Polyjuice...Must be...Couldn't really be him... Neville wouldn't...Polyjuice..." were the words Hermione was mumbling almost incoherently.

The team looked at each other in confusion. What was polyjuice? Did Hermione know their unsub? What was going on?

Receiving a nod from Hotch, Prentiss put her hand on Hermione's shoulder and shook her. She still seemed completely stuck in her own head until Prentiss put another hand on her other shoulder. Hermione jerked away and seemed to come back to herself.

The team gave her a few seconds to regroup. She looked so lost and the team felt like they were invading her privacy, seeing her so vulnerable like this.

Hermione clenched and unclenched her hands a few times and blinked rapidly to once again gain focus on the room. Once Hotch decided she looked better, he decided it was time to get some answers.

"Agent Granger," Hotch started patiently as he waited for her eye to meet his. Once he knew he had her attention, he continued. This occurrence seemed all too similar to the last one.

"Are you alright?" he asked. He sat down in a chair in order to seem less threatening. The rest of the team followed his motion and sat down themselves. They needed to put her at ease.

"I'm," Hermione started. Her throat was so dry, she could barely speak. She swallowed a few times hoping that would help.

"I'm okay," she finished. The team shared quick disbelieving looks. There was no way she was in any way okay.

Hermione caught these looks and knew that she would have to give them answers. Never had she shown such emotion on a case before. Usually she was so much more professional, and she could hide her thoughts and feelings behind a mask. This case, though, there was something about this case. It was destroying her masks. They were crumbling down like bricks and she was helpless to stop them.

Noticing that her mind was wandering again, Hotch drew her attention to him.

"Agent Granger, we..." Hotch started but he was quickly cut off.

"Hermione. Please, call me Hermione," Hermione softly spoke. Hotch nodded his head in confirmation.

"Hermione, then. Could you tell us what just happened? We were all very worried," Hotch continued in a concerned tone. He did not want to make her seem like she was being interrogated, so he adopted a very calm tone.

All of the sudden Hermione stood up and her chair went flying backwards. She scrambled for her bag, shoving all of her papers in it. Her hands were shaking as she pulled the bag to her chest and fast-walked to the door.

Morgan stood up from his seat and stood in front of the door before she could get to it. He put his hands out in a calming manor, as if he was facing a frightened child. Hermione stood there, looking as if she was going to try to get past him.

"I need to go..." she whispered urgently as she shifted from foot to foot.

"Hermione, you need to stay here. You need to tell us what is going on," stated Morgan with his hands still out in front of him. He slowly walked toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. Feeling no resistance, he led her back to her chair. Treating her like a doll, he took her bag from her clenched hands on placed it on the chair next to her. Rossi casually walked to the wall next to the door and leaned against it. He was trying to subtly guard the door, but in a room full of profilers it was very obvious. When it seemed like she was not going to bolt anywhere, Hotch decided to try again. Before he could even open his mouth, though, Hermione spoke.

"Neville Longbottom. He is, was, a very good friend of mine. We went to boarding school together. He loved plants you know. He was terrible at chemistry, but give him a plant and he would shine. He was a part of our group of friends in school. He lived with his grandmother after his parents were put into mental facilities after the Death Eaters tortured them. You would never know it now, but he used to be real shy. He has really grown into himself," Hermione went on. The team could tell how much she admired him from the way she spoke about him. She continued to go about stories from their time at school and how loved Longbottom was.

Rossi loudly cleared his throat which seemed to remind Hermione that she was with the BAU in America and not back in Hogwarts with her friends.

"He was a part of the group that fought against Tom Riddle. He fought alongside many others in the battle in which Riddle was finally killed. I could never see him doing something like this, though. He could never hurt an innocent person like that. I have known him much of my life, and he is just not capable of doing that," said Hermione as she explained what she knew about Neville.

"Was he aware that this Lord Voldemort was actually Tom Marvolo Riddle," JJ questioned. Hermione hesitated but finally answered.

"Yes, he was one of the few who knew who Voldemort really was," Hermione admitted quietly while she bit her nail nervously.

The team traded significant looks with one another. He knew about Tom Riddle, so it would make sense that he could be hallucinating him. If he was involved in this final battle, he could be suffering from...

"PTSD," spoke Rossi as he said aloud what everyone had been thinking.

Hermione put her head in her hands, utterly torn in what direction to go. The BAU seemed certain that Neville was involved, and there was even a recording of him near the crime scene. Well, someone who looked like him. It could be polyjuice. Why someone would be polyjuicing Neville she had no idea, but that had to be the answer. It could not actually be him.

Hermione could not explain this to the team though. She would just have to go along with it, and when they caught him she would be able to prove that it was someone posing as Neville.

Renewed with a new sense of hope, she sat up straighter and looked as if she had a purpose.

She had to find Neville Longbottom.

"We need to find him. That's the only way to know if he is involved or not," Hermione spoke emphatically. The team looked curious at her sudden change of mood, but they agreed with her.

Hotch pulled out his phone and called Garcia. The team remained silent in the background, staring at Hermione while trying to not be obvious about it.

"Garcia, I need you to find out whatever else you can on Neville Longbottom," Hotch told her.

"Sure thing, boss," she replied and then Hotch hung up.

He put his phone away and talked to the entire room.

"We need a bolo out on him. And JJ, I want his name and face on all the news programs. Someone has to have seen him. Set up a news conference" Hotch continued to give orders. Everyone nodded, and began doing what they were supposed to do. JJ called for a news conference and soon, the name Neville Longbottom and his picture were everywhere.

All Hermione could do was wait, because she had no better way of tracking him. During the war, they had found a way to disable tracking spells so that Death Eaters would not be able to find them. None of them ever took it off afterward, so she had no way to find him. The best way was to rely on the BAU. Neville was a wizard trained during a war. If he did not want to be found by other wizards or witches, he would not be.

Hermione looked up at the television screen as she saw the press conference airing. They were going to find him.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoOBSCUREREALITYxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

In his quiet little home, Hadrian sat in complete darkness besides the artificial light of the television screen. His head was in his hands, and his arms were on his knees. His completely blank face was lit up in an eerie way as shadows were cast across the room.

"We are looking for Neville Longbottom in connection with the recent string of murders. If you see him or know where he is, please call the police immediately and do not confront him..." the young blond woman from the BAU spoke on the screen with the picture of Neville right beside her.

Hadrian could not believe that Neville was here. He had no reason to be here, and he had no idea that Hadrian was here in the first place. He had been so close to the scene of the crime, too. Was Neville following him? Can he track him somehow?

Question after question flew through Hadrian's mind as another one popped up before the other one even finished.

He stood up from his mattress and ran his finger through his hair. He gripped the ends in agitation and slightly pulled. His normally messy hair looked even worse than usual.

His hands clenched around the footboard and he closed his eyes in frustration. Hadrian stood completely still as a statue while his mind was a whirlwind.

The BAU thought Neville was a killer. Hadrian knew the justice system. He knew Neville would never get a fair trial and he would be persecuted for the rest of his life. All for something he did not do.

Hadrian could not condemn him to that life. He could not condemn a friend who he trusted his mission too, and even his own life.

Hadrian knew Neville did not kill those men, but what could he do?

He angrily walked to the door of his home and threw the door open. He needed some fresh air and some space to clear his thoughts.

The blustery air calmed him a bit, and he slowly became less agitated. That was until he heard someone else walking around. They had no reason to be out here at this time. Hadrian thought he was the only one that knew about this place.

He crept forward to get a better look. What he saw shook him to the core. There he was, Tom Riddle.

Hadrian took the wand out of his sleeve and walked up behind him. Riddle spun around with a look of utter hatred that Hadrian knew what he had to do.

"Avada Kedavra" Hadrian intoned emotionless as he watched the body of his sworn enemy fall to the ground in a heap. He felt such a sense of satisfaction that Riddle was finally dead and everyone was safe again.

"Daddy?" a little girl's voice asked from a corner. She could be no older than four. Hadrian stared at her in confusion and then he looked back at Riddle.

Only, it was not Riddle anymore. It was just a man that looked like him. It was this little girl's father.

Hadrian stumbled back and almost tripped in his hurry to get away. His hands violently shook as he reached them up to make sure his hood still covered his face. The little girl could not see who he was; it would be disastrous.

He hurriedly slid his wand back up his sleeve before finally turning his back on the grisly scene and running back to his apartment. The entire way back his mind was a blur in the wake of the horror he just committed. With a little girl watching, no less. The next thing he knew his feet were on the stoop of his home. He stumbled forward and slammed his door open, jumping onto the bed completely clothed. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

The BAU may have thought Neville was the killer, but they had no idea how wrong they were.


End file.
